


How late is it?

by GonerLoner



Series: vent fics [14]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Thoughts, Dancer Lee Minho | Lee Know, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Lee Minho | Lee Know Needs a Hug, Mental Breakdown, Overworking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GonerLoner/pseuds/GonerLoner
Summary: Minho can't sleep.It's late... maybe a trip to the studio to tire him out can help.
Relationships: Bang Chan & Lee Minho | Lee Know, Lee Minho | Lee Know & Everyone, Lee Minho | Lee Know & Stray Kids Ensemble
Series: vent fics [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1269089
Comments: 3
Kudos: 87





	How late is it?

**Author's Note:**

> I- don't know what this is.  
> i was feeling blue and my writing muse came over me - and this happened.  
> This is wayy too ooc and so unlikely that this would ever happen and I got pulled totally off track and the members' responses to minho probably don't make any kind of sense but- welp. it's a vent fic. I wrote this in the last... uhm... two hours I think? 2 1/2 hours? (3,7k words in a bit more than 2 hours? not bad tho) so it's bound to be trash - but that's the essence of this damn series haha.  
> only edited once otherwise it's a complete brain fart oneshot.  
> Maybe someone will still enjoy it.
> 
> Stay safe everyone - now more than ever! <3

How late was it?

Bleary eyes stared into the night. The blanket around his body was warm and the mattress soft, but Minho knew that sleep wouldn’t come any time soon.

He stared out into the inky darkness of the room, his wristwatch ticking away quietly. The seconds ran by - silently.

One-

By one-

By one.

What did Chan do during these nights?

Minho turned around and grumbled, shoving his face into his pillow and trying to darken his mind to find some peace.

But no such luck.

His body was buzzing - ants crawling on his skin, the itching need to move or he would get sick with unused energy.

“Fuck!” he whisper-shouted into the pillow, his fingers clawing at the fabric. 

He just wanted to sleep. 

But despite the exhaustion plaguing his mind, the soreness of a day of practicing, and performing, he knew what he had to do to get his mind to rest again.

Minho laid still, trying to delay the inevitable. 

But eventually, he sighed and dragged himself out of bed, walking towards his closet with heavy steps. He was lucky he was alone in the room - if any of the younger members would see him like this…

Let alone Chan. No doubt that Chan was awake too - Minho hoped that he at least wasn’t at the studio anymore, which would lower his chances of getting discovered by a great deal.

He grabbed his sweatpants, then halted, emotionless eyes staring ahead.

Why did he care whether they found out he was leaving for the studio at 4 am? What would they do? It wasn’t like they could stop him - not like Chan had any say in that matter.

Minho closed his eyes and huffed with a bitter smile, then quickly got dressed. He packed a towel, his shoes, and his phone in his sports bag and quietly left the room. 

With a quick trip to the kitchen, he got himself a water bottle, then walked to put on his shoes. 

It was a cold day - and judging from yesterday, it was still snowing outside. 

Yesterday had been the very first snow of the season and Jeongin, Seungmin, and Felix were so excited about it, they kept on talking with each other about what they would do once they got their next day off. 

To Minho, snow only meant coldness - coldness and therefore more layers that still never succeeded to keep the ever-present cold from seeping into his body, his mind, his heart.

Changbin and Chan hadn’t yet commented on how Minho seemed to have changed, how drawn back and cold he had become. Maybe… they would do so soon.

Minho didn’t care.

Or… did he care? And just didn’t want to admit it?

With a huff, he shook his head and left the dorm, pulling the hood of his parka over his head.

And yes, he was right.

It was snowing. 

The morning was dark, the sun hadn’t yet risen to enlighten Seoul with a new day and the snowflakes kept falling slowly, basking Minho’s surroundings in an eerie kind of silence.

He kept his head down as he walked, trusting on memory to carry his feet down the familiar path to their studio.

And again, he was grateful that they had been granted keys to the practice rooms around the clock - whenever they wanted to come.

It had resulted in many unhealthy practices in the past - Felix, after Minho and he came back into the team; Seungmin, trying to better his dancing skills, to make himself shine like the brightest diamond, Jeongin, their _youngest_ because he felt like he was failing as a dancer; Minho himself, more times than he could count - and more times than the other members knew of.

Bleary, dark eyes blinked before cold fingers came up to rub some sleep out of them. Or was it tears that he wanted to disappear?

Minho shook his head and scoffed at himself, walking faster.

It was no use to think about the other members now. They did amazing in their newest videos and performances - performances that highlighted their strengths. Put them in the middle, where they belonged. Where they could shine.

_And it was enough if the strongest members of Stray Kids could shine._

Minho balled his hands to fists and stopped, anger constricting his chest.

Didn’t he also deserve a chance to shine? 

A chance to…to show…why he came into this team?

Why Chan _chose him?_

With an angry cry, Minho smashed his fist against the streetlamp he was standing under. It burned, pain ricocheting from his knuckles up to his arm, but Minho welcomed it.

_No._

He shook his head, kept on walking. 

The studio was empty, the numerous practice rooms desolated.

Minho found the one that was his favorite - small, but with high ceilings, a wall of mirrors that never seemed to fog up no matter how hard he practiced. The sound system was amazing; each beat seemed to bounce from the walls until it vibrated in his bones and made him feel once with the music.

A small smile slipped on Minho’s lips as he let his bag slip to the floor and the tension slowly seeped from his shoulders.

Sure, maybe it wasn’t healthy.

But coming here this late at night? When he was the only one around and could pretend like he was the last human on earth?

It felt… cathartic.

Releasing a slow breath, Minho slipped off his jacket, took his phone out of his bag, and walked over to the speaker. What did he want to dance to?

He scrolled through his playlists and tensed as he came across their own songs.

_Not right now._

His finger landed on his playlist of classical songs and he stopped. He knew of the dramatic pieces in there, he knew how well he could dance to them, and it _had_ been a long time since he last danced to orchestral or classical songs…

“Well...so be it,” he mumbled and connected his phone before pressing play on the first song.

Violins started to fill the empty room, rich tones, tragic melodies that carried centuries of sadness. They interweaved with each other and entered Minho’s mind, releasing him from the dark pits of his thoughts and he started to give his body over to the music.

Arms stretched to the ceiling, he stretched into spins, controlled movements giving way to powerful jumps. He spun, raised his arms in circles that followed the rise and fall of the string instruments. 

He fell to the floor, arching up in a bow as the melody came to a peak - and he let go of the tension as it calmed down again. 

Minho let himself go, dancing through song after song that carried him away from his toxic mind.

How late was it?

Minho stared into the mirror.

He laid on his side, soaked in sweat, his sore muscles not supporting his body any longer. But he was loose, the tension was finally gone.

And as he stared at himself, the melody of the last song resonating in the empty silence, he felt the tears on his cheeks. 

Slowly, he closed his eyelids and sucked in a shuddering breath.

It broke free again in a sob - and like this, the dam broke.

Minho curled into a tight ball and started to cry; large, heaving sobs soon filled the silence of the cooling room. 

He was falling apart.

He was falling.

He was-

Alone.

Voices, steps, _people,_ entered the studio. The day must have started, but Minho didn’t care. 

He wanted other people to… his people. His _boys._

The door to the practice room opened and several sets of steps rushed inside, clambering voices that tumbled over themselves with the cry of his name.

Minho wanted to look up, wanted to shout at them for making such noise, why did they run around like this, he wanted to calm them down - but all he could do… was heave on another sob and bury his face deeper into his knees. He was shaking, _trembling._

_Goodness, what had he turned into._

“Minho- Minho, hey, Minnie.” This voice was closer, rough with worry, and yet trying to stay as soothing as possible.

Chan.

He wanted to-

He wanted-

“Minnie… please look at me.” And there was it… this desperation. Minho had heard it once already - and hadn’t he promised to never make their leader feel like this...ever...again?

_What were promises for if not to be broken?_

Minho forced himself to stop his sobbing and open his eyes, even though it was a tremendous effort and his trembling worsened.

Chan… Minho didn’t know if Chan had ever looked this bad.

His hair was disheveled, hastily shoved under the hoodie of a too-big, somewhat stained hoodie, his eyes were wide, frantic, and blood-shot - and his lip looked like he had bitten it one too many times.

“We had thought something happened to you,” Chan whispered and to Minho’s horror, there was a tear trailing down his cheek.

Before Minho could answer, Changbin appeared next to Chan, and any words Minho wanted to say died in his throat.

Changbin looked _livid,_ like he wanted to kill someone - and break down and burst into tears. His hand came up to rest over Minho’s and his lip wobbled. “I’m not going to ask why you ran off, hyung,” he said, his voice rough and disappointed.

Minho’s eyes closed and he bit on his lip, harshly. He heard the younger members shuffling around behind him and he dreaded facing them - but that was the price he had to pay for worrying them like this.

 _Why do you care?!,_ he wanted to scream. _Why am I so important to you?!_

“Hyung,” came a broken voice behind him. He stiffened and a hand came to lay on his shoulder. “Hyung, why did-” 

Felix stopped and his hand pulled back again. A few seconds later, his body pressed against Minho’s back in a hug and Minho wanted to scream at him.

“Please don’t shut us out again, hyung.” Another body stood up from behind him and came into Minho’s field of vision. Jisung.

His face was hard, even though it was painted with tear tracks. His voice was rough - like the times he sang too much, too loud so that it was almost a shout- 

Minho wanted to push them back.

He turned his face away and hid it in his hands, a tiny whimper falling from his lips.

What happened?

A few minutes ago, he would have given everything for his favorite people to find him but now…

Was _he_ their favorite?

Was he even still close to them?

All of them- it was too much, they were _too close-_

“Minho-” 

And Chan’s rough and yet stern voice sealed it.

“Stop!”

The word broke out of Minho in a shout and all the other members flinched. Felix let go of him and Minho used his opportunity to scramble away from them until his back hit the mirror where he curled up again, his breathing fast and close to sobbing again.

“Hyung!” Changbin. Minho didn’t want to look but he took every bet that Changbin wanted to beat him for hurting the younger members - especially Felix. 

But he only flinched and turned away. “No… please… don’t act like you would care if I take it too far.” His voice sounded too rough, too hoarse to be the voice Minho knew he had - was he a stranger in his own body?

From somewhere, quiet sobbing started. “Okay, that’s it - why do you asshole think you-”

“Enough. Stop it, Changbin.” Chan’s voice was final like steel and it cut off Changbin’s growl with finality. “Bring the others out - I’ll deal with him.”

And oh goodness, if that didn’t hurt - Chan said _deal with him_. Like he was some nuisance that needed to be taken care of.

Silence and the voices of the other members joined Changbin, all of them tearfully asking what had happened to Minho.

They tapered out on their way out of the room and soon, it was only Chan and Minho.

Minho curled up tighter. 

He was so angry earlier this night… where did that disappear? Why was he now… almost afraid of Chan?

He didn’t dare to look but he heard how Chan got up and robbed over to get closer to Minho before eventually settling down next to him.

For several moments, none of them said anything. 

The tension was poisoning Minho’s body and the uncertainty of what Chan would do was eating away at him. He dared to peek out from between his arms.

But Chan wasn’t looking at him. He was leaning against the mirror, staring ahead to the other side of the practice room. His mouth was set into a stony frown and his hands played with his phone, slowly turning it around and around.

“You know,” he started, not turning to Minho when he flinched. His voice was still rough, quiet. “I heard you leave.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” 

“For once I…” Chan took a deep breath. “For once I had managed to fall asleep _before 5 am_ \- I wasn’t… quite awake. And I thought you came back… before the day started.”

Finally, he turned and looked at Minho. His eyes were dry. “I thought… I thought you’ve gotten better.”

Minho balled his hands to fists and looked away. 

After waiting for a response that didn’t come, Chan sighed and turned to face him fully. “Okay, please tell me - what set you off? Did the stress pile up again?”

“As if you really want to know,” Minho mumbled.

Chan stiffened, then drew in a hissing breath. “What. Do you mean.”

Minho scoffed. “Don’t tell me you didn’t realize, Chan - to me, this group doesn’t feel like a family anymore. Hell, what happened to ‘make all of us shine, each with his own unique talents’?”

He stared Chan in the eyes and pulled his lips into a tight line. “Sometimes I wonder why you chose me when I rarely get the ability to shine too.”

Chan drew his eyebrows together, confusion clouding his features before horrified understanding cleared it up again and he gasped. “Is this- Oh fucking hell, Minho, please tell me you aren’t serious.”

“Of course I am!” Minho turned away, biting his lip. Now he felt bad. Bad for making this all about himself, showing how selfish he really was. “Who even cares.” He raised his hand to rub over his eyes, trying to will the stubborn tears away to where they came from.

Chan stayed where he was for a few seconds, before leaning forward with an almost hysterical laugh. “Minho, you- you’re our Main Dancer. Our Lead Dancer. You’re- you’re the best dancer I’ve ever met! That’s why I brought you into this team! And- fuck, please, please don’t ever doubt that - we _are_ family! Without you- Without you, I couldn’t manage to lead this team- you’re-” He shook his head, then raised his face to the ceiling, biting his lip hard. “And… we _do_ care. A lot. You’re so important to us - please. Please never - never - say that again - that we wouldn’t care if you took it too far… we- we nearly lost you once so-” Chan rubbed his eyes hard and looked at Minho again, determination in his gaze. “But it seems like… we’ve neglected to show you how much we care recently. And...how much we all _need_ you.”

Minho didn’t look at him. “Seungmin needed more attention - with his new fear of crowds…”

“Still! We should have recognized the signs.” Chan shook his head and leaned forward, placing a gentle hand on Minho’s shoulder. “I’m sorry… I’m so very sorry, Minho. On behalf of all of us.”

Finally, Minho turned and met Chan’s gaze.

It was earnest, still red with sleep deprivation but also shining with determination and care. 

“I’m…” Minho bit his lip. “I’m also sorry. For… scaring the others like this. For scaring...you.”

“Felix will forgive you once you apologize to him, don’t worry.” Chan smiled. “Changbin...too.”

Minho looked at him with big eyes and swallowed. Then, his feelings burst out of him. “I was… I couldn’t sleep and I thought the only way of getting myself tired enough was to go and dance some more… and I was so angry on the way here… with- everything! It all seemed so pointless - and then here, I just wanted you to find me but then as you did, it was too much and-” He sucked in a wobbling breath. “I don’t understand this, hyung… why do I feel like this?”

Chan paused, but not for long before he leaned forward and drew Minho into a gentle, but deep embrace. His hoodie smelled like sleep and Chan’s day perfume. “I can’t tell you that for sure… but we will help you to feel better again. I promise.”

Minho buried his face in his neck and let himself be held.

The dorm was dark when they came back - at 7 am. Chan had managed to postpone their first appointments of the day back into the evening which would give them enough time to catch up on some sleep - or on missed time with each other.

Quietly, Minho pulled off his snow-soiled boots and hung up his coat. His movements were slow, careful. Had the others go back to sleep?

No, wait. There was light coming from the living room.

“Come,” Chan said after he had taken off his own outer layers. He grabbed Minho’s hand and led him to the living room from where Minho now could hear the quiet voices of the other members.

They quieted once Chan and Minho entered.

Changbin and Hyunjin were sitting on the sofa, leaning on each other with Felix laying over their laps, his face cuddled against Changbin’s stomach. Jisung and Seungmin were sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, both on their phones. Blankets were arranged around them, layered above each other into a fluffy cloud, and puffed up with seemingly every pillow they had floating around in the dorm.

All members were in their pajamas.

“Calmed down again, hyung?” Changbin looked at him with an unreadable expression, one of his hands holding Felix’s shoulder like he wanted to shield him.

Minho breathed out slowly. The blanket pile gave him a tiny bit of comfort even though he found it difficult to believe that they had built it in response to him being so… rejecting.

“Yes, I did. And… I’m sorry...for worrying you like this - and also…” He looked at Chan, then at Felix who had turned around towards them.

Felix’s eyes were shining and underneath his messy hair, he wore a pout that normally brought the strongest men to their knees.

Minho wondered with what right did he deserve them.

“I’m sorry, I… maybe I was at fault for excluding myself but… I felt like I was drifting away from the group,” he admitted, staring at the window on the other end of the living room. It was still snowing.

“It felt… like I could slip into old habits again and-” His words sank into a whisper. “No one would notice.”

Jisung scoffed and stood, stumbling over to Minho and securing him into a tight, warm embrace. “We noticed, hyung,” he whispered. “We always notice - and it scared me.”

Minho blinked, trying to keep the tears away.

He clung to Jisung. “I just-”

Chan gently pulled them both forwards to the blanket pile. “We need to get some rest - all of us.” His voice was soft but final. “Schedule only starts in the evening.” 

Once he had coaxed Jisung and Minho into laying down, still closely intertwined, he sat next to them and turned to the other members. “Come, you lay down too.”

Seungmin readily joined the pair in the blankets but Felix was hesitating. 

Minho raised his head from Jisung’s shoulder and locked eyes with him. “Lixie, I… I’m so sorry for pushing you away,” he whispered and stretched out a hand - suddenly, he longed for Felix’s innocent touch. “Hyung was too overwhelmed at that moment… I’m so sorry, Lix, I love you.”

Felix hesitated and exchanged a look with Chan. Eventually, he swallowed and nodded, raising from Hyunjin’s and Changbin’s lap and crawling into the blanket pile to settle against Minho’s back, slowly reaching his hands around his waist in a hug.

Minho smiled and relaxed, settling into the hug-sandwich of Jisung and Felix.

“I missed you, hyung,” Felix whispered. “I… I’m sorry we didn’t act sooner.”

“No need to be sorry, Lixie.” Minho softly patted the arm around his waist and listened to the shuffle of Hyunjin joining them. 

“Please don’t overwork yourself again, hyung,” he said, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “You… you always tell Lixie and me that we have to be careful with how much we practice.”

“You’re right… I’m sorry, Jinnie.”

“And who tells me this won’t happen again?” In contrast to the other members, Changbin’s voice was still sharp with wariness and residual anger. 

Minho blinked and looked up, meeting his eyes. “I will.”

“Tomorrow, Minho,” Chan butted in, “we will have to talk more about this. I realized that… we as a family might not be as close as I always thought we were - we have to prevent this from happening in the future.” 

Gently, his fingers combed through the strands of Minho’s hair, soothing his sudden tension. “We won’t let you feel this left out again - you’re a part of this family and we will show you that.”

Minho sighed and didn’t answer, only leaning into the touch.

For a few seconds, it was silent - then, the sofa rustled again as Changbin stood and made his way to the blanket pile, sitting down next to Chan and Minho’s head. 

“I’m just worried, hyung,” he said softly. “You really scared us today - and we assumed the worst.”

“I’m really sorry…” Minho wanted to curl up into a ball again.

“Minnie, it’s okay.” Chan smiled and carefully stood. “Try to get some rest - I’ll turn off the lights.” He left the cuddle pile.

Minho’s eyes turned to Changbin. “Can you… forgive me?”

Changbin blinked and then smiled - one of his soft, beautiful smiles. “For now, yes. We’ll talk more tomorrow… but this can’t happen again.”

Minho nodded and leaned his head down to hide it in Jisung’s shoulder again. He would be okay. 

He had his brothers that would take care of him.

How late was it?

Some hour in the morning probably.

And for once, Minho didn’t want to know.

**Author's Note:**

> maybe i will regret this tomorrow hahahaaa  
> if you still enjoyed my newest brainfart please consider leaving a comment it would mean the world to me <3


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